


Dust Duty and Steel

by Varalence



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varalence/pseuds/Varalence
Summary: Before the time of kingdoms and academies, before the current age, fragile humanity stood on the brink of collapse. The black creatures of Grimm, voracious forces of darkness, terrorized every corner of the world, an endless black scourge that seemed to have no master, and no end. Only a brave few, the Hunters, stood between humanity and the black tide. Called by none, and bound to no one, the Hunters took up arms against the Grimm not by the demands of a lord or master, but by the love they held for their people and their homes. Armed with iron, steel, and dust these Hunters would be the first in a long line of warriors to be the bulwark for humanity against utter destruction.





	1. A Man Named Raaf

Ch 1: A Man Named Raaf

_This world is miserable.”_

The thought flashed through the mind of Raaf Stahlren, like it did many times before. Lightning crackled overhead and the constant sound of rain hitting leaves echoed through the clearing. But the weather was the least of Raaf’s concerns as he tightened his grip around his steel long sword, gloved fingers tightening around the bound leather hilt.

_“This world is unforgiving.”_

Around him, Raaf could see the glowing red eyes of certain death, and hear their raspy breath and clawed footsteps from the shadows of the trees.

_“This world is Death.”_

As if on cue, a bolt of lightning cracked overhead, and one of the beasts in the shadows made its move. With a howl and the sound of cracking branches it leapt forward, a grisly visage of death itself in the form of a demonic wolf, a beowolf. Its head was encased in a bone shell with two hollow eye sockets filled with burning red orbs. The rest of its body was similarly lined with sections of bone plating and red marks. It bore its jaws open, revealing a crimson red maw and jagged bone-like teeth. Raaf noticed its attack and immediately turned towards it. The beast’s claws were nearly at his neck when he ducked downward and brought his sword up in an arc. With the grating sound of steel tearing flesh Raaf gutted the beast from its torso to its chin, splitting a long gash down its body. The beowolf fell behind Raaf, croaking its last guttural howl, and began melting into dust. The fiery orbs of its eyes were dimming, soon to snuff out. Raaf had no time to take notice of the dying beast as the rest of the pack grew restless at the sight of one of its own dying. Raaf could feel their anxiousness, their hunger, their rage. It was almost palpable, like a thick fog that hung over the area. Raaf steeled himself for the next assault. He didn’t have to wait long. The ravenous pack let loose their savage howls and attacked as one. At once, Raaf found himself facing down five more beowulves descending upon him from all directions. Normally impossible odds for normal men, but he was no ordinary man, he was a Hunter, and he was not about to fall to a pack of wild beasts out here. Taking a deep breath, to offset any panic, he sidestepped backwards into a hole in their attack pattern. The beowulves found themselves biting at empty air as Raaf was off to the side out of their reach. Before the one closest to him could turn itself around towards Raaf, it found itself without its head as Raaf decapitated it with a single stroke. Its body collapsed, dissipating into black dust like its earlier brethren. Raaf readied his sword again as two more of the pack lunged, boney claws outstretched. Raaf flipped his sword around, grasping it by the blade. He swung it sideways, using the cross guard to smash into the side of the rightmost beowolf in its skull. There was an audible crunch of breaking bone as the force of the blow sent it crashing into its packmate next to it, sending both beowulves tumbling to the ground. Wasting no time, Raaf leapt up and brought the tip of his sword down on the two stunned beowulves, skewering both of them in one move. They died with a shriek. Panting from the exhaustion of having to deal with three of these things already, Raaf didn’t react in time to the fourth beowolf of the pack lunging at him. He turned around and felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as the beowolf tackled him to the ground, pinning his sword arm underneath a black claw. Raaf could feel his arm slowly being crushed under the monster’s grip, and it probably would have been already if it weren’t for his gauntlets. The beowolf leaned close to Raaf, close enough that he could smell the stench from the beast’s breath. A repulsive smell of death and decay. Raaf gagged and snarled,

“You’re way too close.” The beowolf drew its head back, readying to snap Raaf’s head off, but it failed to notice Raaf reaching for something with his free hand. As it struck, the beowolf froze, finding that Raaf had stabbed a dagger down its maw. The beast recoiled in pain as Raaf forced it off, clambering to his feet. With his right arm throbbing in pain, he was forced to wield his sword with his left hand. The beowolf made gagging noises as it tried to get rid of the dagger and clawed at its own throat with frenzied panic. “Oh shut up.” Raaf sneered as he drove his sword through the beast’s neck, silencing it for good. “ _Four down, one left.”_ Raaf turned to the last beowolf which had been hanging back behind its brethren. Raaf raised his sword at it, “Well come on then! What are you waiting for?!” The beowolf and Raaf stared down each other with neither ready to make the first move. A sense of understanding of what would happen seemed to pass through the beowolf’s mind and instead of attacking, it slinked back into the shadows of the trees and Raaf watched as the sound of its claws disappeared into the forest. Raaf lowered his sword, adrenaline still pumping through his system. He looked down at his right arm, the gauntlet crushed and deformed, and he could feel what seemed like a fracture. Retrieving his dagger, Raaf cut the leather straps to his gauntlet and tossed the piece of armor aside. He used some extra cloth on his person to craft a makeshift sling before sheathing his sword and hefting his traveler’s pack onto his left shoulder. The town wasn’t too far away but night was coming, and even though he survived one pack, Raaf didn’t want to try his chances with three times that number. 

Just as the sun dipped under the horizon, and the yellows, reds, and purples of dawn faded into an inky black, Raaf found himself at the gates of the town of Strauss’s Fall. The guards at the gate didn’t give him too much trouble once he showed them his Hunter’s mark, a small silver amulet all hunters carried as a badge of their duty. It was courtesy to not hassle the person putting their lives on the line for your sake. Raaf’s first thought was to get a drink at the tavern but a quick inspection of himself made him decide to make a detour at the blacksmith’s first.

Inquiring the location of the blacksmith, Raaf was pointed towards the southern end of town by a local, “Yeah look for Bruno, a big dark skinned fellow who looks like he eats rocks for breakfast. He’s probably outside at his forge right now, you can’t miss him.” Walking through the streets Raaf took in the sight of the small but thriving town. The streets were lined with houses of stone and wood with concrete foundations. Everything was well constructed and it was clear that the people here could afford a decent standard of living, considering the roofs were laid planks of wood instead of the straw roofs Raaf has seen in other places. A few minutes of walking later, Raaf was greeted by the sound of metal striking metal as Bruno’s forge came into view. The local wasn’t joking, Raaf found himself looking at the back of one of the largest men he had ever seen. Easily over two meters tall, he made the houses around him look small. He wore a blacksmith’s apron over a brown short sleeve shirt and coarse looking pants. On his feet he wore shin high blackened leather boots that had definitely seen better days. Over his eyes he wore a pair of blackened goggles and his facebore a thick beard that seemed to be singed in a few places. His dark complexion was broken up by rough looking patches of skin or something else that went down the back of his arms and neck. The man was currently hammering a red hot bar of steel somehow holding it with his bare hand. Raaf approached and greeted him, “Hello, you the blacksmith around here?” Bruno stopped his work and turned his head toward Raaf. 

“That I am,” he replied, putting down his hammer, “Who’s asking?” Raaf could hear a Sanusian accent coming through his words.

“My name’s Raaf, I’m a Hunter coming through these parts.” Bruno lifted up his goggles. 

“A Hunter! There seems to be quite a few of you guys running around these days.” He flashed a wide smile as he walked towards Raaf. “The name’s Bruno, master of this here forge.” He reached out an enormous hand. Raaf shook it, noting it felt more like he was shaking hands with an Ursa than a person. 

“So I was told.” Raaf responded, Bruno laughed a hearty laugh at that.

“Of course the townspeople would tell you about me, I’m quite famous around here. Now tell me hunter, what can Bruno do for you?” he asked, putting his enormous hands on his hips. 

“I need some general maintenance on my sword and a new gauntlet.” Raaf replied, drawing his sword out of the sheathe. Bruno took the sword from Raaf’s hand and held it up to his eyes, the weapon looking more like a toothpick than a sword in his giant hands.

“Solitasian steel.” Bruno mused while inspecting the weapon, “And you did quite a number on it it seems.” noting the multitudes of chips and scratches on the blade.

“Well that just comes with the job.” Raaf replied with a shrug. “Slaying Grimm dulls the blade fast.” 

“As it would.” Bruno handed the sword back to Raaf. “And you said you needed a gauntlet? I’d say that’s wise, then you wouldn’t break your arm again!” Bruno laughed while gesturing at Raaf’s injured arm still in its sling. 

“Well I had a gauntlet, till a beowolf crushed it and my arm underneath.” Raaf winced at the memory.

"Well that won’t do.” Bruno said, “But don’t worry I’ll make you one better, better than whichever novice made the previous one.” Bruno pounded his chest, “You can trust me on that. My creations do not bend so easily."

“Sounds good” Raaf nodded, “So how much would it cost?” Bruno rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. 

“Well normally I’d charge a bit more because Solitasian steel needs special treatment, but I also happen to like Hunters a lot.” He smiled, “So for you, fifty pieces, and a drink when I’m done.” Raaf smiled at the offer. 

“Deal.” he said as he handed over his sword and other gauntlet to Bruno.

“Make the new gauntlet like this one if you can.” Raaf requested.

“A simple task for me.” Bruno replied as he took the gear. “I should be able to finish this in about three days.”

“That’s fine, I’ll be in town for a while.”

“Excellent, then let me give you some advice.” Bruno snapped his goggles back on, “If that arm’s bothering you too much go see Old Man Vincent over near the tavern, he’s an apothecary of sorts, should be able to help you with it.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind, thank you.” Raaf said as he turned to leave.

"See you soon friend!” Bruno called out as Raaf walked back to the center of town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is gonna be a bit of a ride. I think most of you will be able to see the direction this story is going to be headed. Will be taking some liberties with certain canon details, but for the most part, I'm treating this like an "it could happen" type of thing since we don't actually know that much about Remnant's middle ages. I also don't actually know what tags to put so...if you got suggestions leave them below.
> 
> Next Chapter: Dubious Dealings


	2. Dubious Dealings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strauss's Fall. A town far away from the main Kingdoms. A person wouldn't come here without a reason, and Raaf hoped his contact had a damn good one for making him come all the way out here.

Heeding Bruno’s advice, Raaf paid a visit to old man Vincent to have his arm checked. The wizened gray geezer took one look at it and told Raaf not to worry too much. 

“You’ll be fine,” he muttered, “Just try not to put too much weight on that spot for a week or so and you should be fully healed.” As a precaution, Vincent gave Raaf a few vials of some foul looking brew and told him to take them if the pain or feeling gets worse. Retching at the smell of the concoctions, Raaf hastily thanked the old man, paying him a few coins for his troubles before leaving, hoping he’d never have to drink them. Thankfully, the old man’s shop was across the street from the Tavern, a place Raaf was quite eager to pay a visit to. For a drink, but also for business. 

The tavern itself was quite lively, packed with local workers and farmers taking a break after their workday. Raaf scanned the booths near the back before locking gazes with an individual in the rightmost booth of the tavern. Both men nodded at each other before Raaf waded through the mass of bodies on the main floor of the tavern, taking a seat across from said individual. The man opposite to Raaf was thin and lanky, wearing only a simple traveler’s cloak over a shirt and vest. He had a head of dark green hair and a humorous look on his face. There seemed to be a gleam in his eye, as if to suggest he knew something you didn’t. To round out his appearance, he had two goat horns protruding from his head. 

"I’m gonna be honest I half didn’t expect you to make it.” The faunus began, while waving down a barmaid. 

“You know it takes a lot more than that to kill me, Bronson.” Raaf replied. After asking for two mugs of ale, Bronson turned to Raaf and his expression turned serious.

“Since you’re here, I assume you have it?” He inquired. Raaf responded by untying a black bag attached to his pack and dropping it on the table. Bronson undid the cord around the top of the bag and pulled it open, revealing a deer-like skull with antlers that resembled more of tree branches, and red markings running like fissures across the skull.

“One head of a cattle murdering wendigo, for you.” Raaf smirked as he took a drink from his mug. Bronson gave a hearty laugh and tied the bag back up. 

“Well then I guess I owe you this.” Bronson said as he slid over a sizable pouch of gold. “The employer will be very pleased to know that his herds are safe now.” 

"Yes yes, I am thrilled to know that another blue blood's cash flow is safe." Raaf took another gulp of his ale before glaring down at the goat faunus. "Now with that out of the way, what are we really here for?" 

"Whatever do you mean?" Bronson replied, taking a long whimsical sip.

"You know why. We could have finished this deal back at Vale but you made me come out here to a village in the middle of nowhere. You'll do many things Bronson, but wasting time isn't one of them, so I'll ask again, why?" The goat faunus's smirk grew into a grin. 

"You were always a sharp one Raaf. Alright fine here's why." Bronson took a rolled up piece of parchment from under his cloak. He leaned in close to Raaf as he unfurled the scroll on the table. 

"I had to let you know about this in a place where there wouldn't be a lot of other curious parties." Raaf raised an eyebrow while Bronson continued. "It seems that someone's located a piece of treasure of particular notability." 

"Go on?" Raaf leaned in closer to Bronson.

"About a week ago, a farmer was reported to have stumbled into Mantle, raving and babbling about seeing something out in the Argus Mountains. A 'boon from the Gods' he was calling it. Rambling about a cave that no Grimm dared to enter, and malevolent spirits that guarded its arcades.

"So? Ravings of a madman. Those are a dime a dozen these days."

"One would assume that, but then I did some digging." Bronson tapped the parchment. "This was a record I 'borrowed' from the library in Vale. It's an account of one Commander Legate Arimus, from nearly a century ago." Raaf looked down and began skimming through it.

**_"Commander's log. Day 284. The men and I have spent the last ten days lost. Whatever force has possessed this weather seeks to see us destroyed. The food is nearly spent and the snow has made finding our way all but impossible. Maybe there is hope. We have found a cave to take shelter in. Hopefully it is enough to allow us to wait out this accursed storm."_ **

Raaf continued, however what followed was an incoherent mess of scribbles, scratches and utter gibberish. 

**_"It's beautiful. Fantastic. But spirits oh spirits. LEave Us! Death is all here! Blood washed with blood-IT SPEAKS!"_ **

"Ok you have my attention. What of it?" Raaf whispered. 

"A job.” Bronson dropped another roll of parchment onto the table. “There’s some people who’d like to meet you. The pay’s good, real good, so you got that going for you.” Raaf read over the job contract and looked at Bronson. 

“Well it sure beats having to run around, killing Grimm all over the place.” He rolled up the contract and put it away. “So when do I meet them?” Raaf asked.

“They’ll be here tomorrow by my guess. Look for blue cloaks.” With that Bronson polished off his ale, and got up. “I’ll see you around Raaf. I hope you’re still alive by the end of this.” The goat faunus hurriedly made his way through the crowd and out of the tavern. 

Raaf stared at Bronson until the goat faunus had disappeared out of the tavern entirely, all the while wondering what could warrant such secrecy.

"Refill?"

Raaf jumped as the barmaid reappeared next to the booth, keg in hand. 

"Oh, uh yes please." he coughed as the barmaid took the empty mug from him and gave him a freshly filled one. 

"Sorry did I scare you?" 

"Oh, no you didn't I was just lost in thought." Raaf nodded while taking a drink. 

"I thought you Hunters were supposed to be always alert, ever vigilant." she joked. 

"Well we'd like to think that." Raaf replied, cocking an eyebrow as the barmaid left. He unfurled the contract again as he nursed the second mug of ale. While he didn't fully buy into Bronson's story, the fact of the matter is that nobody throws around that much gold on a whim. A part of his mind told him to drop the contract but ultimately, it was overridden by his curiosity.

"I'm stuck in this place for a week or so anyway. Let's see what these people have to say." He said as he finished his ale, listening to the bard in the tavern slowly rousing everyone to a song.

**_Toss a coin to your hunter,_ **

**_Oh valley of plenty,_ **

**_Oh valley of plenty,_ **

**_Toss a coin to your hunter,_ **

**_A friend of humanity~_ **

God he hated that song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell how I came up with this story, you should by now. I originally didn't intend to publish two chapters in 1 day but I made it a rule that if I couldn't produce 2 chapters of a story at conception, I probably wouldn't be able to finish it. Taking some liberties with the canonicity of how Grimm work. Now they leave their bones behind.
> 
> So here we are, Raaf's accepted a questionable offer from an equally questionable friend, but gold is gold.
> 
> Next Chapter: Strange Company


End file.
